


a man of any courage

by D_melanogaster



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Folklore, Gen, M/M, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-15
Updated: 2015-11-15
Packaged: 2018-05-01 16:10:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5212304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/D_melanogaster/pseuds/D_melanogaster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“No, really. You don’t have to believe me, but there’s a lot of old stories about it. You’re taken north and there’s a lady who rows you across the river, to the kingdom of Death. If you’re very clever, you can come back.”</p>
<p>It’s stupid. It’s stupid and a fantasy and it is never going to work, Steve knows, but he has to ask. “So, if I was clever enough, could I bring Bucky back?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	a man of any courage

**Author's Note:**

> Finnish folklore AU! Inspired by Kalevala. I feel like it deserves to have about 20K more words, but I didn't have it in me.

Steve is sickly and often ill, but this time it is bad. It is early summer, and the temperatures are rising, and the dry weather makes him wheeze and cough. It keeps him up at night and makes him tired, and his stomach is acting up, too, so he can’t keep food down. It goes on for days, and he grows weak and fatigued.

Steve feels bad, but he must look bad, too. Around the second day, his mother’s eyes start to look constantly red-rimmed, and she cries at night when Steve pretends he's asleep. She keeps on a brave face for him, but even when she sits by his bedside to keep him company, she's constantly wringing her hands.

-*-

Steve recovers – well, Steve recovers enough that he can make it out of bed, which is an achievement for him and would be a poor condition for anyone else. His mental faculties return with his better health, and he begins to wonder where his best friend is. Bucky is usually by his side at all times, and especially when Steve is ill – then Bucky's like a mother hen, clucking around about what would be the best for Steve, whether it's a bath, a drink or another blanket.

But this time, Bucky hasn’t been around. Not since Steve fell ill, really. And even though Steve is better now, and it’s clear that he’s going to be fine, his mother hasn’t stopped crying when she thinks Steve can’t see. Steve doesn’t want to think about what it could mean, but he does anyway. He doesn’t want to believe it, and he keeps stalling, waiting for Bucky to come around or his mother to cheer up, but neither thing happens.

Finally, two days after Steve realized Bucky’s absence, he asks. But really, he already knew.

-*-

They say he drowned. They say he was walking by the docks, saw a girl in trouble, and helped her out. Good old Bucky Barnes to the rescue, as always, only this time not to Steve’s. And only this time, he got hit over the head, knocked out cold and pushed into the water for his troubles.

Nobody really says it to Steve, just around him, all the time, like seeing Steve Rogers walking around alone just makes everybody think about it. They all say, as if he couldn’t hear, that they always expected Steve to go first. The two of them were the troublemaking runt of the litter, who was always looking for a fight if he wasn’t too ill for it, and the good, handsome boy who looked after him. They don’t expect Steve to last for long, either, but apparently, it shouldn’t really be so surprising that Bucky would meet his end bailing someone from a fight. But he was a good boy, they say, and at least he’s with the Lord now.

Well. Not everybody thinks that, apparently. One time, two of the old crones from Steve’s building are talking about it, when Steve is right in front of them in the line at the butcher’s, doing the shopping for Mrs. Barnes. When they say how Bucky will be in heaven, a boy next to Steve snorts.

And Steve has been clenching his fists in rage, biting his tongue because he does not want to get into an argument with the elderly, but is the kid _laughing_ at the idea that Bucky would be good enough to go to heaven? Is there something that is _funny_ about this to him?

The kid sees something of this on Steve’s face probably, and shakes his head quickly, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender. Steve huffs, and turns his face away, because he cannot get into a fight while running errands for Mrs. Barnes. He will not.

The boy finds him anyway, once Steve is walking down the street, fuming about how people can be such insensitive jerks.

“Hey, listen, I wasn’t making fun of your friend, okay? It was just what they were saying. People don’t go to _the sky_ when they die.” And really, does this kid think that _blasphemy_ is going to make anything any better?

“Oh, yeah? Where do they go, then?” Steve bites out, stopping on his tracks and turning towards the boy. He’s a little shorter than Steve, and at least five years younger, maybe twelve or so, with bright blue eyes and blond hair. They could almost look like brothers, him and Steve, with their coloring, except the boy’s face is rounder and he has a button nose, so really he doesn’t look much like Steve.

“My grandmother says they’re taken north. And I was there, you know. I saw your friend go that way, too.”

This – Steve doesn’t really know what to say to this. It makes him angry, to be made fun of like this, when it hurts so badly still, but on the other hand, the boy seems really sincere, so maybe he’s just confused instead of malicious.

“No, really. You don’t have to believe me, but there’s a lot of old stories about it. You’re taken north and there’s a lady who rows you across the river, to the kingdom of Death. If you’re very clever, you can come back.”

It’s stupid. It’s stupid and a fantasy and it is never going to work, Steve knows, but he has to ask. “So, if I was clever enough, could I bring Bucky back?”

“I don’t know.” The boy shrugs. “I guess? My grandmother says that you’re not supposed to eat or drink anything, because the queen poisons everything. So if he’s had anything of hers, I don’t think he’s coming back. And I don’t think you can swim across the river, and the lady probably won’t take anyone back.”

“Would I ever even find the place?” Steve asks, because really, that probably should have been the first consideration. “North”, as a destination, is not very specific.

“Well, I haven’t been there. Follow someone who’s dead?” the boy says with another shrug.

“Okay.” _Okay_ , Steve thinks, and he has lost his mind sometime during the last five minutes, because it feels like a plausible idea. “Thanks. Um, why are you telling me this?”

“It was my sister. The girl that your friend helped. So I think we should help him, now,” the boy says.

-*-

And it’s a stroke of horrible, ghastly luck that Mrs. O’Malley from next door passes away that night at her home. And Steve just happens to be walking by, returning from the Barnes’s, when the deceased Mrs. O’Malley follows a tall, thin man out of her apartment. He has a hand on her shoulder, and he’s using it to steer her to the stairs, and Steve breaks out in a nervous sweat.

He is now seeing a dead person walking around. He has lost his mind entirely. But here is someone dead, someone he could follow to see where to go, and really, he only has to walk downstairs, right? If they don’t go north, then the boy wasn’t telling the truth and he can go home.

If they _do_ go north, well. Steve might end up missing dinner.

-*-

They go north.

Steve follows.

What else was he going to do?

-*-

It’s a long walk, and Steve would swear that it takes hours and hours and _hours_ , but they started walking during twilight and it never gets fully dark, or completely light. It’s just an endless march in long shadows, with the man and Mrs. O’Malley walking ahead, and Steve creeping behind them, trying to stay quiet, hoping his strength will hold, hoping they won’t look back, his heart in his throat the entire way.

Finally they come to the mouth of a giant cave, and the man walks in confidently, Mrs. O’Malley in tow. Steve waits for a moment before he follows. It’s only a short walk before he gets to a river, where there’s nobody in sight.

And it has been a long night of walking, down a path that Steve is fairly certain is not on any map and did not, even at the start, take him even through the neighborhood that he knows, much less any real place since. But it’s really only now, standing by a dark river that is full of rapids, that Steve really believes the story he heard.

He’s going to the kingdom of Death. He is out of his mind.

But if he’s clever, and very, very lucky, he might come back out with Bucky. And there is no question of whether he’s going to try.

He waits around for a while, but nobody appears. There’s no lady to take him over. He remembers that he shouldn’t swim, and it doesn’t look very appealing, anyway. He paces around, walks down the shore one way and then up again the other way, but there’s nobody there, either.

“Hello? Is there anybody there? I need to cross over,” he calls eventually, getting a little desperate.

And it’s almost like magic, because a woman in a rowing boat appears immediately. Like the man that led Steve here, she is tall and thin. Her hair is long and flowing, a shade of white that seems to glow in the darkness, and her skin matches it. She has a thin white dress on, and she would look almost frail if not for the sharp glint in her eyes. She stops a few feet away and looks over Steve, assessing. It is perhaps the most frightening moment in his life. She looks like she can see through him and read all his secrets. Steve fears his heart may give out soon, it is pounding so hard.

“Why do you want to cross over? You cannot be dead. My father did not bring you.” She has a clear voice, and she sounds very young.

“No, no, he did. I was just – I was slow,” Steve says. “I fell behind.”

“And what brings you here? It is neither iron nor water, nor fire, nor a fall – those I would see,” she says, and that – that is a thought that Steve hadn’t really wanted to entertain. If he had drowned, he would look like it? Does this mean _Bucky_ will look like it? Steve’s imagination has conjured up a picture before he can stop it, and he feels ill.

“Well, young man? What ails you?” the lady prompts him, shaking Steve away from his ghastly musings.

“My lungs do. And my heart. And my stomach,” Steve answers, and he isn’t even lying really. Those are the sources of his ailments, even if they haven’t been fatal yet. And as if by command, he’s struck by a coughing fit harsh enough that it almost brings him to his knees.

The lady’s look softens, and she brings her boat all the way to the shore, and extends a hand to help Steve aboard. She does not say another word to him, just rows to the other side and gives him a hand when he gets off again. He wanders along, and when he looks back a few moments later, he can’t see her anymore.

-*-

Steve doesn’t have to walk for long before another woman meets him. She looks older than the lady by the river, and very stern. But she smiles when she sees Steve, and for a moment she almost looks friendly.

“Welcome,” she says, “to the kingdom of Death. I am your hostess, and I shall escort you to our feast.”

She beckons Steve to follow, and walks away. Steve can hear a distant commotion, louder the closer they get, of people laughing and talking and the clinking of cutlery on dishes. They get to a hall, full of people of all ages, shapes and sizes, eating and drinking and chatting with each other. Steve tries to look around, but he can’t see Bucky anywhere.

But then, by this point, Bucky’s been here for a fortnight. Who knows where he might have drifted by now.

“I know your journey has been long, but now you can eat and drink all you wish, and rest.” The woman points him to a table full of food, and leaves him alone then. But Steve remembers the boy’s warning about poisoned food, and he stays away from all of it. He instead takes a stroll around the hall, and tries to find Bucky. He can’t see him anywhere.

He does see Mrs. O’Malley, drinking beer and eating what looks like a roast, but she doesn’t look up and see him, so he doesn’t stop to say hello. She’s already eating, anyway. He won’t even be able to take her with him now.

After a few turns around the hall, Steve’s sure that Bucky isn’t there, but there is another doorway, on the opposite side to where Steve came in. He steps through the door, and finds another hallway, with no end in sight, and no real rooms along it, only shadowy alcoves, and a complete stillness.

It’s eerie, but Steve has already come this far, so he starts walking. The first time he sees a person huddled in an alcove, almost out of sight but just barely visible, he nearly jumps out of his skin. By the sixth one, he doesn’t even flinch anymore.

It’s maybe the sixteenth or so who pulls Steve into the alcove with him, and Steve almost shouts before he just sags in overwhelming relief. It’s _Bucky_.

Bucky, however, isn’t quite as glad to see him. Distraught, more like.

“ _Steve?_ ” he hisses, holding on to Steve’s shoulders with both hands, tight enough to bruise. “What happened to you? I left you for a few days, how are you _dead_?”

And Bucky looks like his beautiful self, a little pale, maybe, but Steve thinks that’s from the shock. Despite what the river lady said, Bucky doesn’t look like he drowned. Except, Steve then sees, for his clothes, and his hair, which are dripping wet.

And this, in all the time since he asked his mother why Bucky hadn’t visited, is the first thing that makes him cry, ugly, heaving sobs, because Bucky really _drowned,_ and left him alone.

“Hey, hey, Stevie, it’s okay,” Bucky whispers, and pulls him into a hug. “It’s okay. I missed you too.”

“I didn’t die,” Steve mutters into his shoulder, once he’s gathered his composure again. “I came here to get you, jerk.”

At this, Bucky pushes him away again. If he was pale with shock before, he’s turning red with rage, now.

“You did _what_? Why would you – _Steve_ ,” Bucky says, with the same despairing voice he always uses when he thinks Steve’s ideas are mad and going to get them both killed. Well, too late for that, this time.

“Have you drunk anything? Or eaten?” Steve asks anxiously. “Because I heard everything’s poisoned, and we’re not going to get back if you did.”

“Well, no, Steve, I was recently deceased and taken to this weird place, I didn’t really feel like _celebrating_ ,” Bucky hisses at him, “and don’t think we’re done talking about what the hell you think you’re doing.”

“I don’t think we should talk,” Steve says, looking around the hallway. “I think we should get out while we can. Do you think we should go the way I came?”

“Well, there’s no getting out the other way, I think,” Bucky says begrudgingly. “I’ve been there. I’ve been bored. Not much to do around here.”

And so they walk back, hand in hand.

They pass the hall, and the people at the feast, and nobody looks up to see them leave. The hostess is welcoming a young woman and an old man, and doesn’t speak to them as they cross paths, but looks after them with a harsh look, and Steve drags Bucky along faster.

Somehow, he feels like it won’t end well if the woman catches them.

They hurry along, and come to the river, and the boat isn’t anywhere in sight, again.

“So, what now?” Bucky asks, and peers into the dark waters. “Um, I don’t think we should try to swim. Take a look.”

Steve looks, and bends closer to see better, and –

“Are those _swords_?” Yes. Yes, they are. There are blades of all kinds swirling in the river, as if the width and the strong flow weren’t deterrent enough. So. They are not getting across by swimming, then. A cold sweat starts prickling down Steve’s neck. The hostess woman is going to be back at any moment, the way to the hall isn’t that long, and they can’t swim, and there is nothing, absolutely _nothing_ in sight that would help them.

Not that they can see very far in the shadows, anyway.

The boy had said that the lady probably wouldn’t take anyone back. But Steve glances at Bucky, who’s running a hand through his hair in a familiar gesture of frustration, _and his hair isn’t wet anymore_. And Steve almost feels like laughing, because if they don’t get out now, he will surely go insane with the thought that Bucky probably would have made it, if they had only got to the other side.

Well, Steve figures. The lady probably won’t take anyone back. But Steve’s ma taught him to always ask politely at first, so that’s what he will do.

“Hello? I need to get across again,” he calls out, and Bucky tries to hush him, but the lady has already appeared.

“Oh? You would like to go back?” she taunts, stopping her boat a longer distance away this time. “Very few do. It is not my job to carry anyone away from this shore.”

“I haven’t even died,” Steve says, trying for a kind, respectful tone. “And Bucky should never have been brought here, either. He was only trying to help a girl in trouble.”

“Your friend was brought here as everyone is brought here,” the lady says, “except those who lack judgment and come without cause.”

“I had cause,” Steve argues, sharper than he intends. “I had to get Bucky back.”

The lady looks at where their hands are still linked, and her harsh expression wavers.

“My parents would disagree on the justness of your cause,” she says, shaking her head.

“Please,” Steve begs, “Let’s not ask your parents?”

The lady laughs at him outright. “You do not think the King and Queen of Death will know you escaped their kingdom? You do not think they already know what you are attempting?”

“Well, at least take him, then,” Bucky implores. “I’ll stay, but he doesn’t belong here yet. He shouldn’t have to stay.”

“Bucky, _no,”_ Steve says, tightening his hold on Bucky’s hand. “Not without you.”

The lady smiles, thoughtful.

“It is true that you do not belong here at this time,” she says. “And you will not leave your friend?”

“Never,” Steve asserts, and she pushes the boat closer.

“This time, I shall make an exception for your friend,” she says, “but the next time, you must swim.”

-*-

The lady ferries them across the river, and they hurry out of the cave, into the indeterminable twilight. They don’t come across anyone on their way, and hoping to keep it that way, they hurry away. They don’t even know where they’re walking, really – mostly just away, towards what they think might be south if they’re lucky.

The path feels long, even longer than when Steve got here, as now he’s afraid, every moment; afraid that Bucky will slip away, or that they will run into somebody, or that somebody will catch them.

Finally, day starts to break, and Steve recognizes the butcher’s shop where he had met the boy who told him how to get to Bucky, and then he dares to laugh.

Because Bucky was dead, but now Steve has him back, and Bucky’s clothes are entirely dry, and his heart beats strong under Steve’s cheek when Steve pulls him into a hug.

“Don’t you ever do that to me again, asshole,” Steve tells Bucky, laughing and crying and clinging on to him in the middle of the street.

Bucky clings right back, and promises not to.

-*-

They spend the next few years squabbling about whether Steve is ever allowed to fetch Bucky back again. Bucky always reminds him that next time they would have to swim, and that would just not be pretty.

And when Sarah Rogers dies, Steve wants to go so badly, _so badly_ , and Bucky has to gently remind him that there would be no getting back, and it’s not what his mother would want.

-*-

And some years later, in Europe, Steve sometimes sees a tall, thin man steering soldiers towards north, and he has to go and find Bucky and make sure he’s still there.

And then, after the train and the fall, Steve wonders how that will make Bucky look. There is nobody to remind him about swords in rivers now, and he will follow as soon as he can, because he may have promised not to do it again, but so had Bucky.

Bringing the plane down, then, seems like a good idea. He’s so far north that he figures he’ll only have a short way to go. It will get him to Bucky much sooner.


End file.
